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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583391">we'll still find each other in other universes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale/pseuds/stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale'>stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, I'll add more tags as i go, M/M, aasim's not the greatest babysitter, brody and violet are relationship goals, but james loves him anyway, but they make for good practice and fun writing, don't know how many of these i'll do, javi just wanted his pudding but, louis and mitch are fake dating, mitch hates almond joys, mitch is too stubborn for his own good, sharks silently judge louis and clementine, short stories based on my twdg mix n' match challenge on tumblr, this is pretty much a collection of oneshots, twdgmixchallenge, violet thinks peach pie sucks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:33:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale/pseuds/stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Short stories based on my TWDG Mix n' Match Challenge on Tumblr.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aasim/Clementine (Walking Dead: Done Running), Aasim/Louis (Walking Dead: Done Running), Aasim/Mitch (Walking Dead: Done Running), Aasim/Ruby (Walking Dead: Done Running), Brody/Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running), Clementine/Louis (Walking Dead: Done Running), David García/Lilly (Walking Dead: A New Day), James (Walking Dead: Suffer The Children)/Mitch (Walking Dead: Done Running), Louis/Mitch (The Walking Dead: Done Running)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. [prince aasim]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Anon requested: "How about 8 and 28? I haven't seen a lot of Clemsim so I'm naturally pretty curious about these two! "</p><p>"Aasim and Clementine babysit a child together. Shenanigans ensue."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="">
  <p>Lucy’s giggle is the most annoying thing Aasim has ever heard. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nails on chalkboards are mere ambiance noise compared to the high-pitched giggle muffled behind the wooden door. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim grips the doorknob once more, twisting with all his might while banging against the wood with his free hand. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Lucy, I’m not messing around!” He snaps. “Open the door!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nope!” Lucy titters, mimicking his knock from the other side. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim bounces his forehead off the door, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to find his inner calm. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy kicks the door. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Damn i- <em>Dang</em> it, Lucy-!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You swore! You swore! I’m telling my mom! You swore!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No!” Aasim argues. “I said ‘dang’ it!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You said a bad word! I heard it!” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh yeah?” Aasim grits his teeth. “Well, when your mom gets home, you’re going to be in even more trouble for locking yourself in her room!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nu-uh!” Lucy taps back on the door. “Not if I tell her you locked me in here!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She won’t believe you!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, she will!” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’s going to punch a hole in the damn door. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’s actually going to step back and kick it down himself. Then, he’s going to tear that ugly baby doll from her chubby hands, rip it to shreds, set it on fire and make her watch it <em>burn</em>-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim steps back from the door, fingers raking through his already tousled hair. He can’t remember the last time he was so frustrated that he could just cry. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>This was supposed to be an easy evening with an easy thirty dollars earned towards his new bookcase. Mr. and Mrs. Hawker were nice people who always helped Aasim and his family when they needed it. He couldn’t imagine having better neighbors.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When they called his mother up asking if he wanted to earn some cash, Aasim jumped on it without a second thought. For months, he’s had his eye on a nice wooden bookshelf in one of the used shops in town. Huge and made of thick, sturdy wood, it would fit perfectly along his wall, taking up more than half of it. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim could fit all of his books, notebooks, and even his movies on it. Then he wouldn’t have to keep his books stacked along his wall where they could fall and get damaged if anyone walked near them. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The only problem was the bookcase was expensive.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But, not as expensive as a brand new one. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>So, Aasim took up doing extra jobs around the house to raise his allowance, as well as jumping at every opportunity to earn cash from helping out the Hawkers. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thirty dollars would put him twenty away from his goal, and everything was going smoothly. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Until Lucy asked him to play hide n’ seek. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Which was fine- Aasim didn’t mind playing a game with the toddler.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Then she locked herself in her parent’s room and now Aasim might not get that money. Of course, if she completely destroys the room, Aasim might never get another job from the Hawkers. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Lucy, please-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nope!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The chime of his phone goes off. Aasim yanks the phone from his jacket pocket. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clementine’s picture fills the screen- the one he took of her in the library.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Glancing back at the door, he steps back down the hall to answer with, “Hey.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>“Hey yourself,”</em> she says.<em> “Did you get my text?”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Uh, no, sorry. I’m… occupied.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>“Oh yeah? Well, just so you know, Louis </em> <strong> <em>did </em> </strong> <em>get the part in the spring musical!”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh shit, really?” Aasim slaps a hand over his mouth, turning back towards the door. Lucy doesn’t say anything, so he should be in the clear. “That’s great!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah! We kept telling him he’d do great. Anyway, to celebrate, we’re all meeting at Omar’s tomorrow for breakfast. Mind if I hitch a ride?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What time?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Around eight.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim scoffs. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Louis’ll be up and ready by then?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>“Probably not,” </em>Clementine laughs. There’s a brief pause when Aasim hears something fall over from within the bedroom, followed by Lucy’s insufferable giggle. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>“So, what has you occupied?”</em> Clementine finally asks. <em>“You sound distracted.”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I have, uh… a situation.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“A situation?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Babysitting,” Aasim sighs. “Mr. and Mrs. Hawker went to dinner, so they asked me to watch Lucy until they get back, right? Simple enough?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Except…?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Except the little-” Aasim glances back at the door, hushing his voice, “-<em>brat </em>locked herself in her parents room and I can’t get her to come out.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Did you try asking politely?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Did I try- <em>Clementine</em>.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>‘What?”</em> Clementine chuckles lightly. <em>“Sometimes you can be very rude-”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh my god.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“-and as a result, children won’t listen to you. Because you’re rude.” </em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ll have you know that I asked super nicely if she’d open the door and she wouldn’t do it!” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Well, what do you do when Aamirah won’t listen to you?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I never have that problem with Aamirah because she’s a good kid who knows how to listen!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Another crash emits from the bedroom, muffled by the walls. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She is tearing the place apart and if I break down the door, then I’ll have to fix it before they get home!” Aasim says, pulling at his hair. “I don’t know how to fix a door! And even if I <em>do</em> fix it, she’ll just squeal to her parents that I broke the door down! And that I swore! Which I didn’t mean to do! It just came out!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clementine goes silent. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“…Clem?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“You’re just next door, right?”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“I’m on my way!”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What? No, Clem-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“See you soon!”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Clementine!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She already hung up. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim stares at his phone, mouth agape. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>No, no, no…! </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clementine cannot be here! </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Hawkers made it clear that no one else was to be in the house! <em>Especially </em>his girlfriend!</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Aasim!” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy pokes her head out from the bedroom, grinning ear to ear as she waves at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim stumbles as he turns himself around, dashing towards the room.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He doesn’t make it. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy’s already locking the door by the time he grabs the knob. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“This isn’t funny!” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Not even twenty minutes later, the doorbell rings. At the same time, his phone buzzes with a little <em>“Here!” </em>message from Clementine. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Rushing down the stairs, he throws the door open, blocking the doorway. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clementine stares up at him with wide eyes, taking in his disheveled appearance. She bites back a grin. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Clem, not to be rude-” she raises a brow at him “-but you can’t be here. If they find out you were here, I’m dead. Please leave.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She rolls her eyes, moving up the steps anyway. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I can see why you’re having trouble.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He doesn’t stop her- she’s not supposed to be here, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see her. If anything, Clementine’s the one good sight he’s had all evening. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek before ducking past him. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She still won’t come out?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No,” Aasim sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “I’ve tried asking nicely, I’ve tried bribing her, threatening to call her parents, <em>begging</em>- I’ve tried everything except breaking the door down.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clementine hums, reaching for his hand, smiling, “C’mon.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Hand in hand, he leads her up the stairs and right to the door. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim knocks, calling out, “Lucy? Your parents will be home soon! Don’t you want to come out and get ready for bed?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nope!” Lucy giggles. “Nope! Nope! Nope!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim shoots Clementine an exasperated look, which she returns with an amused grin. Giving his hand a final squeeze, she approaches the door. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>However, she doesn’t knock, nor does she say anything. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Instead, she pulls her backpack off, unzipping the front pocket. Finding what she’s looking for, Clementine kneels down on the floor, and begins fiddling with the doorknob.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Woah, what are you-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>…Is she-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clementine smirks up at him. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She’s lock-picking the damn door. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>How is she lock-picking the god damn door?</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A soft clicking is heard. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Triumphant, Clementine bounces back to her feet. Aasim knows he must look foolish gawking at her the way he is, but it gets worse when she pulls a dress out of her bag. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Before he knows it, Aasim’s holding her jacket as she slips the dress over her head, smoothing it out of her clothes. It’s a classic Snow White dress, one you’d see around Halloween time. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He has no words. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Still smirking, Clementine opens the door. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hey!” Lucy’s high-pitched voice brings an ache to his ears. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh my!” Clementine says, voice changed so dramatically that Aasim almost bursts out laughing. “There she is! Safe and sound!</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy drops from her parents bed, hurrying to the door to stare up at Clementine in wonder. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Who are you?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m Princess Clementine.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy gasps, gripping her baby doll close to her chest as she looks over Clementine’s dress.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re… a princess?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Why, yes I am!” Clementine smiles, brushing the blond curls away from Lucy’s face. “We were so worried that you’d be trapped in there forever!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“How’d you get the door open?” Lucy demands. “It was locked!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clementine leans close, whispering, “Magic!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Oh god.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim wishes he had his phone pulled out to record this. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy eats it up, though, staring at Clementine with those big, blue eyes. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Thank goodness Prince Aasim told me you were trapped!” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>…What?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Prince…Aasim?” Lucy turns her gaze to him. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Uh…?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clementine shoots him a look. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Uh, yes!” he clears his throat, deepening his voice. “I, Prince Aasim, sent for Princess Clementine to free you from this… bedroom…trap place.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy eats it up, marveling at the both of them. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clementine peeks into the bedroom with a frown. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh dear,” she says. “It seems that this place it quite messy?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Oh shit-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim steps forward, heart dropping at the sight off loose drawers dumped onto he ground, pillows tossed everywhere, and a lamp on the floor. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Oh shit, oh shit-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Lucy,” Clementine places her hands delicately on the girls shoulders. “Would you like to be a princess, too?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy squeals, and Aasim wants to die. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes! Yes! Yes!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Then you must help me and Prince Aasim clean this mess up,” Clementine smiles. “Once we’re finished, I will make you a real princess! How does that sound?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes! Yes!” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Lucy jumps up and down, grabbing Clementine’s hands to drag her into the room. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The clean up is much easier than it looked. The hardest part was putting the drawers back together, but other than that, the bedroom looked tidy within the hour. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Once finished, Clementine escorted the toddler to her room, tucking her into bed and making her pinky promise to treat Prince Aasim with respect, and to not tell her parents about what happened. If her parents find out, “all magic will leave this world!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aasim can only laugh. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Exhaustion from all the stress and frustration has him plopping down on the living room couch. He owes Clementine big time. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’s going to plan a special date for her. He doesn’t know what it’ll consist of yet, but they’ll make a whole day of it. He’ll take her to the fanciest restaurant he can afford, he’ll write her sappy poetry and read it to her in the moonlight, he’ll sit through one of the gory, action-packed thrillers that she likes so much, he’ll-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Clementine comes down the stairs, grinning to herself as she sits beside him and grabs his hand once more. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>After a moment, Aasim looks to her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They share a brief gaze before he reaches over, hand slipping behind her head as he brings his lips to hers. She grins, kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When they break apart, Aasim sighs. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I have so many questions.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. [one more spoonful]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>journalofthedead requested: 3 and 25? I can imagine the chaos for them.</p>
<p>"Mitch and Aasim bake cookies together but one of them won't stop eating the cookie dough."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you like white chocolate?”</p>
<p>“Not as much as milk chocolate.”</p>
<p>“Do you want white chocolate chips in with the milk chocolate?”</p>
<p>“Nah, we’re already putting M&amp;M’s, Kitkats, and Reese’s in.”</p>
<p>Aasim glances up from the cookbook in his hand, eyeing the bag of candy Mitch has already opened and dug through. </p>
<p>“You really think that putting all that into the cookies is going to be good?”</p>
<p>“Uh, hell yeah,” Mitch grins, eating another bite-sized KitKat. “How can a candy bar cookie be bad?”</p>
<p>“If you eat all the good candy and have nothing but Almond Joys left.”</p>
<p>Mitch shoots him a stern look, pointing at the pile of ‘crimes against nature’ candy bars at the end of the table, saying, “If you put those things into the cookies, I’ll never speak to you again.”</p>
<p>Aasim chuckles, reassuring him, “I don’t like them either.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but would you put them in anyway just to mess with me?”</p>
<p>“If you pissed me off.”</p>
<p>“Exactly,” Mitch punctuates his point by popping another KitKat into his mouth. </p>
<p>Aasim rolls his eyes, grin still tugging at his lips as he looks over the recipe once more. </p>
<p>It’s a simple one, jotted down by his grandmother’s own hand. It’s his favorite recipe, one that Aasim made at least once a month. </p>
<p>Usually, he’d make up a plate to bring to Mitch, who would then devour most of them during whatever movie they were watching that night, but Aasim thought it would be fun to actually make them with Mitch.</p>
<p>But nothing’s ever simple with Mitch, which is why he brought a huge bag of those candy bars to crush up and mix into the dough. </p>
<p>Aasim’s never made this recipe with anything other than chocolate chips, but hey, maybe they’ll turn out good. </p>
<p>“Here,” Aasim slides the recipe across the table. “Measure out the sugars for me.” </p>
<p>“Got it,” Mitch nods, eating yet another candy bar. </p>
<p>Aasim knows the recipe by heart, and soon, the base of the cookie dough is almost finished. </p>
<p>Just as he’s opening up his bag of chocolate chips, Mitch dips his spoon into the bowl, scooping out the dough. </p>
<p>“Hey!”</p>
<p>Mitch licks the spoon clean, raising a questioning brow at Aasim’s sudden protest. </p>
<p>“What?” he asks innocently. “I’m just doing a taste test.”</p>
<p>“You don’t taste test the dough,” Aasim frowns. “That’s how you get sick.”</p>
<p>“Pfft,” Mitch scoffs. “Yeah, okay.” </p>
<p>Mitch finishes crumbling up the different candy bars, tossing them into the dough along with Aasim’s chocolate chips. </p>
<p>He has to admit that it does look delicious. He can’t wait to try them once they’re-</p>
<p>“Mitch!” </p>
<p>Mitch freezes, another spoonful of cookie dough in his mouth as he glances up at Aasim. </p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“Dude, I just told you not to eat the dough! You’re going to get sick!”</p>
<p>“No, I’m not!”</p>
<p>“You could get salmonella poisoning and die.”</p>
<p>“Oh c’mon,” Mitch rolls his eyes. “You can’t die from eating cookie dough.”</p>
<p>“This has raw eggs and flour in it!”</p>
<p>“So what? Haven’t you ever seen <em>Rocky</em>? That dude drank, like, twenty eggs a day and he was fine.”</p>
<p>Mitch quickly scoops another spoonful out of the bowl, causing Aasim to yank it away from him. </p>
<p>“Fine! But if you eat it all, we won’t have enough to make a full batch!”</p>
<p>“Okay, okay,” Mitch puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Just one more bite and I’ll stop.”</p>
<p>“No!” </p>
<p>“C’mon!”</p>
<p>“Mitch!” </p>
<p>Aasim guards the bowl with his body as Mitch wraps his arms around him, attempting to dip his spoon back into the cookie dough, both of them struggling and chuckling. </p>
<p>Mitch is a lot bigger than he is, so Aasim has to resort to curling in over the bowl, exclaiming, “Stop! I’m gonna drop it!” </p>
<p>“Not until I get-”</p>
<p>Aasim’s grandmother would be ashamed of him for what he did next. </p>
<p>With his bare hand, he grabs a chunk of the dough, twists around, and shoves it at Mitch’s open mouth.</p>
<p>“Mmf!” </p>
<p>The cookie dough smears across Mitch’s chin as the spoon falls to the kitchen floor with a loud clank. Mitch stumbles back, coughing and laughing hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. </p>
<p>Weirdly enough, Aasim finds himself laughing just as hard. </p>
<p>Mitch wipes his chin, staring Aasim down with that challenging gaze of his. </p>
<p>“So, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”</p>
<p>Aasim accepts this challenge, not breaking their shared stare as he grabs a packaged Almond Joy from off the table and throws it at Mitch’s gut. </p>
<p>About ten minutes later, Aamirah comes home from playing at a friends house to find her brother and his boyfriend on the kitchen floor, laughing so hard they can barely breathe, both covered in cookie dough, candy bars all over the floor, and the oven announcing that it’s finished preheating. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. [beLOUga]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>anon requested: For the otp can you do 4 and 16 please?</p>
<p>"Clementine and Louis go to an aquarium."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That Nemo fish is glaring at him. </p>
<p>Louis leans closer to the illuminated tank, his nose almost touching the glass. While the rest of the Nemos swim around with one another, there’s one in particular that caught his attention. </p>
<p> The one with a scowl. </p>
<p>Closer it swims, never once looking away from Louis nor paying any attention to the others swimming around it. </p>
<p>“What’s that?” Louis whispers, her breath fogging up the glass. “You want me to set you free so that you can start on your plan for world domination? Sorry, Nemo, I can’t do that.”</p>
<p>The fish finally swims away once Louis pulls back, chuckling to himself. </p>
<p>“Sir, are you taunting the clownfish?” </p>
<p>Clementine slips her fingers through his, grasping his hand while leaning into his shoulder. He smiles down at her. </p>
<p>“Maybe.”</p>
<p>“Need I remind you that the sign says ‘Please don’t touch the glass.’“ </p>
<p>“Well, ma’am, I’ll have you know that I haven’t laid a single finger on that glass and I have several witnesses to back up my claim,” Louis motions to the glowing tank where all the Nemos swim. </p>
<p>“Oh, good,” Clementine leans up on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. “I was afraid that I’d have to kick you out before we got to the shark tunnel.” </p>
<p>Louis gasps in mock horror, causing a fit of giggles to escape her as she playfully knocks her fist against his arm. </p>
<p>“C’mon, I want to see the huge crabs.”</p>
<p>“You mean the water spiders?”</p>
<p>Hand in hand, they continue through the rest of the exhibits, stopping to stare admire the biggest, most horrifying crab Louis has ever had the pleasure of being five inches away from. </p>
<p>There aren’t many people here- it is noon on a Tuesday, after all- so they’re able to go at their own pace without worrying about anyone trying to hurry them up or silently judge Louis for making faces at the seahorses. </p>
<p>He was never one to skip school, mostly because if his father ever found out, well, he’d kill him. Then, he’d forbid Louis from seeing Clementine, so they’d have to go back to sneaking around. </p>
<p>Except that’s exactly what they’re doing now. </p>
<p>When Clementine picked him up this morning, she handed him a pamphlet to the Aquarium and asked if he wanted to skip. After some careful, five minute planning, they called themselves in- Louis does a damn good impression of his father- and got straight onto the highway. </p>
<p>They’ve already been here for an hour, and now that he’s standing there before an enormous, beautiful sea turtle swimming with her young, he can safely say that it’s the best decision he’s made all week. </p>
<p>If he could, Louis would spend every single day here. </p>
<p>Eventually, they come to the shark tunnel, arguably the best part of the Aquarium, in his opinion. </p>
<p>It’s exactly what it sounds like- you walk through a tunnel surrounded by sharks, turtles, and fish of every color. The only light comes through the glow of the tanks themselves, illuminating the whole tunnel a soft blue. </p>
<p>It’s silent, aside from the constant hum of the water. Clementine pulls him down to sit with her just as the shadow of a shark casts over them. </p>
<p>For a long time, neither of them say anything. They stay close, their hands entwined and resting on her lap. </p>
<p>Glancing down at Clementine, a content smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes, Louis kisses her temple. </p>
<p>She quirks a curious brow up at him.</p>
<p>“In front of the sharks?” she asks. </p>
<p>“I’m sure they’ve seen worse.”</p>
<p>This time, he kisses her cheek, then her lips. Warmth spreads through his veins, pumping into his heart and making him lightheaded. Her fingers brush against his neck, chilled, a wonderful contrast. </p>
<p>She giggles. </p>
<p>Louis breaks the kiss, this time the one with the questioning look. </p>
<p>“Beluga.”</p>
<p>“…What?” </p>
<p>Clementine shakes her head, still laughing as she says, “I just realized that we’re in an aquarium and your name is BeLOUga.”</p>
<p>Louis lets her go to scoot as far away from her as the bench allows, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout. </p>
<p>“You ruined the moment.”</p>
<p>Clementine tries to speak, but now she’s laughing hard enough that she’s wheezing, reaching out for him. He’d think she’s adorable if it weren’t for the subject at hand.</p>
<p>“Lou, c’mere,” she laughs, scooting over to him and attempting to kiss him again. </p>
<p>“Nope, you ruined it.”</p>
<p>“Louis!”</p>
<p>“The lighting, the ambiance, the mood- you ruined it all. We’re never kissing again.”</p>
<p>“Oh, bullshit!”</p>
<p>“The sharks are laughing at us!”</p>
<p>She manages to meet his lips once more, and even he can’t push down the chuckle vibrating in his throat. In between kisses, he manages out, “Ma’am, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”</p>
<p>“On what grounds?”</p>
<p>“Harassing the whales.”</p>
<p>Clementine’s in tears by the time she calms down enough to stop laughing and breathe properly. </p>
<p>The sharks silently judge them. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. [brooding like a crow in the rain]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>fus-ro-dah-bitch requested: 11 and 20 if you will</p>
<p>“Mitch and James cuddle by the fire.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mitch looks miserable. </p>
<p>Absolutely disconsolate with an uncomfortable scowl frozen on his harsh features. Even with his arms wrapped around his knees and his jacket zipped up to his chin, he shivers violently from his place on the ground, attempting to still himself as to not be noticed. </p>
<p>It’s no wonder why he’s so cold. Coming out here in the rain with little more than a jacket was a thoughtless and possibly dangerous move. </p>
<p>A bright flash illuminates the forest, followed by a clap of thunder that rocks the earth beneath their feet.</p>
<p>Mitch sits up, back stiff and gaze narrowed as he looks through the darkness the trees hold. Droplets of water fall from his damp hair and slip down his reddened cheeks. </p>
<p>James suppresses a smile as he sneaks another glance at him.</p>
<p>“You’ll freeze to death over there.”</p>
<p>“Good.”</p>
<p>James kicks a rock at him, watching it bounce off the ground and strike Mitch’s knee. Mitch’s scowl somehow manages to deepen. At this rate, he’ll have the permanent wrinkles of an 80-year-old man if he keeps frowning like that. </p>
<p>Bright embers fly through the air as James pokes the fire, sighing when the warmth envelops him as he scoots closer. </p>
<p>“It’s nice and warm over here,” James tries again. “C’mere, I have a blanket.”</p>
<p>“You know what else has a blanket? My bed.”</p>
<p>James perks a brow. </p>
<p>“It also has pillows,” Mitch continues, “and strong walls surrounding it, and way less goddamn bugs.”</p>
<p>“Then why don’t you go back to the school and climb into your bed?”</p>
<p>Mitch doesn’t respond, choosing to continue sulking instead of admitting his concern for James being out here all by himself. </p>
<p>Mitch has his own odd way of being sweet, James thinks, his own way of showing he cares. Though, he’s also much more stubborn than James ever could be- which is incredibly, almost impressively stubborn- which is why he insists on catching a cold in the rain rather than join him by the fire. </p>
<p>James made it clear that he can’t always be cooped up at the school at night. While having a room with an actual bed is a blessing in this horrific world, there are some nights that leave him restless for the comfort of nature. </p>
<p>Which is why he still sleeps out in the woods. He makes sure everyone knows that he’ll be gone as to not worry them, and he makes sure to check back in with them in the morning. </p>
<p>While most of Ericson is understanding, Mitch is not. </p>
<p>“At least come out of the rain.”</p>
<p>“I’ll come out of the rain when you agree to come back with me,” Mitch snaps back, attempting to hide another shiver that tremors through his body. </p>
<p>James sighs, reaching into his tent to fish out his heavy, thick blanket. </p>
<p>“You’re going to get sick,” James tries once more.</p>
<p>“I’m already sick,” Mitch huffs. “Sick of your shit.”</p>
<p>“Good one.”</p>
<p>“I try.”</p>
<p>James stands, unraveling the blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders, attempting to remain casual as he says, “You know, this is a rather large blanket.”</p>
<p>Mitch watches him, remaining silent with a newly determined, forced scowl. They both know where this is going, and James knows Mitch isn’t going to make the inevitable outcome easy.</p>
<p>“Not only is it large enough for two people,” James adds, “but by the fire, it’s almost too warm.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you can find a walker that’s interested.”</p>
<p>“There isn’t a walker for miles,” James grins. “I already herded them away. There’s only you.”</p>
<p>Mitch scoffs.</p>
<p>James takes a step towards him, sighing. </p>
<p>“I’m not going back to the school,” he says. “If you would like, you can go back yourself-”</p>
<p>“I’m fine.”</p>
<p>“You’re going to catch a cold, and then what? Then you’ll be stuck in bed with Ruby fussing over you.” </p>
<p>“I’m <em>fine</em>.”</p>
<p>“Alright,” James shrugs his shoulders. “I suppose I’ll have to join you out in the rain then.”</p>
<p>Mitch’s gaze snaps up, his hand darting out to point up at him. </p>
<p>“No, you stay over there!”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to stay over there,” James says, stepping closer to Mitch. Wetness drips down through his hair, causing a shiver to shake his spine. “You’re over here, and I want to be with you.”</p>
<p>“Oh my god,” Mitch groans, rolling his eyes. “You’re gonna get your blanket wet, dumbass! Go back over there!”</p>
<p>“No,” James replies simply. “If you’re going to join me out here, then I’m going to sit and share a blanket with you, even if that means both of us catching a cold and giving Ruby a stroke. That’s the rule.”</p>
<p>“There are rules now?” Mitch stands, hands pressing against James’ chest in order to move him back by the fire. He’s beyond freezing. “How about we have a rule where you’re not allowed to-” stumbles when James grabs both of his icy hands, warming them up with his own, “-uh, not allowed to come out here when- when it’s raining!” </p>
<p>James presses a kiss against Mitch’s knuckles.</p>
<p>“You don’t like the rain?” he quietly questions. </p>
<p>“No, the rain fucking sucks, dude.”</p>
<p>“I enjoy it.”</p>
<p>James, keeping his grip firm, leads Mitch back over to the fire. </p>
<p>Mitch puts up a weak struggle, making James jerk him forward twice before he finally caves in and slips under the blanket with him. Sitting together on the log before the brightly burning fire, James dries Mitch’s hair with another smaller blanket, despite Mitch’s vocal complaints. </p>
<p>Once they’re both settled, they allow the quiet to fall over them. </p>
<p>Another flash of lightning brightens the forest, and moments later, more thunder roars through the air. </p>
<p>Not caring if Mitch’s jacket is still soaked, James sneaks an arm around his waist to pull him closer. </p>
<p>After a light kiss against Mitch’s cheek, Mitch says, “That’s not going to work.”</p>
<p>“No?”</p>
<p>Another kiss, this time along his jaw. </p>
<p>“Nope.”</p>
<p>Liar. </p>
<p>“Surely it’s working a little bit.”</p>
<p>This time James plants a kiss against his pulse point, lingering there. </p>
<p>Mitch closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. </p>
<p>“You’re still wrong about everything.” </p>
<p>“You don’t think this is nice?” James asks. </p>
<p>“It’d be nice if we weren’t out here freezing our asses off as a ready meal for any walker that passes by.” </p>
<p>“I’m not freezing my ass off,” James reminds him. “I’m not the one who insisted on sitting out in the rain like a brooding crow.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I wouldn’t be out here in the rain if you weren’t insane enough to want to sleep out here.” </p>
<p>“You didn’t have to come after me.”</p>
<p>“But I did and now I can’t feel my toes.”</p>
<p>James chuckles, pressing a final kiss to the back of Mitch’s hand before moving in closer, hugging his waist. Mitch rubs his back in lazy circles, resting his chin on top of James’ head. </p>
<p>Together, they watch the flames dance as rain continues to crash all around them. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. [I say I’ll care forever, and I mean forever]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>anon requested: 1 and 19? :3</p>
<p>"Brody and Violet go stargazing in the desert while sharing pizza and other snacks."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Desert roads, desert plains... I have seen so much pain...”</em>
</p>
<p>Violet’s grip tightens on the pizza box in her lap, the heat melting through the thin material of her jeans to burn her legs. </p>
<p>Brody takes another sharp turn, still singing softly with the radio while Violet’s entire body stiffens, clutching onto the pizza for dear life as her shoulder’s thrown against the passenger door. </p>
<p>Brody’s oblivious to how her calculated yet reckless driving skyrockets Violet’s anxiety, especially now that they’ve reached the bumpier part of the desert. Thankfully Brody’s heavy-duty pick-up truck is durable enough to handle the rocky surface with ease compared to any other vehicle. </p>
<p>Violet silently scolds herself for entertaining the idea that her little beat-up Malibu could’ve handled the drive. She’ll give Brody that. </p>
<p>Brody turns the radio down low enough for her to say, “Almost there. Just a couple more minutes.” </p>
<p>“Thank god,” Violet mumbled, adjusting the pizza box to mostly sit on her right leg, giving her left a break against the scorching bottom.</p>
<p>Brody takes advantage of this, her hand drifting down from the wheel to rest against Violet’s free leg.</p>
<p>"I'm glad we finally made it out here."</p>
<p>She gives her an affection squeeze before continuing to sing along.</p>
<p>
  <em>“...I felt mission, I felt trust...I knew then that I must... Must go to her from this cruel world...”</em>
</p>
<p>Violet glances her way, admiring the way Brody’s skin glows in the orange light of the setting sun. Her gaze falls to her lips, recognizing the berry-colored balm she wears as the one Violet gave her last week. The one that tastes like artificial blueberries. </p>
<p>“You don’t like my singin’?” Brody asks, smirking. </p>
<p>Violet nearly pulls a neck muscle with how quick she is to turn and look out her own window. </p>
<p>“I didn’t say anything.” </p>
<p>“But you’re lookin’ at me.” </p>
<p>“I’m just making sure that you’re paying attention to the road.”</p>
<p>“Ah, I see,” Brody grins, giving Violet’s leg another teasing squeeze before letting go. “You’re cute.”</p>
<p>“<em>Stop</em>.”</p>
<p>Brody’s chuckle brings a warmth that spreads across Violet’s cheeks, almost as hot as the pizza burning through her leg. </p>
<p>Just as Violet goes for a sip of her fountain drink, they go over another bump that lifts her up high enough to hit her head against the roof of the truck. The pizza nearly bounces out of her grip and onto her damn shoes.</p>
<p>“Ow, fuck!”</p>
<p>Brody’s arm darts out to shield her- or maybe catch her- as she asks, “Oh shit, you alright?” </p>
<p>“My head just split open and my legs are going to fall off, but other than that, sure.”</p>
<p>Brody snorts out a laugh.</p>
<p>“Sorry, I’ll slow down. You sure you’re good?”</p>
<p>“Peachy.”</p>
<p>“Want me to kiss yer head better?”</p>
<p>“No, I want to get there in one piece.”</p>
<p>Brody smiles, fingers drumming against the steering wheel in beat with the new song starting.</p>
<p>Violet can’t remember which song it is. All she knows is it’s from the Fallout 3 soundtrack. The game itself isn’t great-in Violet’s humbly correct opinion- with the soundtrack being the best thing it has going for it. </p>
<p>Brody usually has one of the country stations playing, but Violet insisted that the only country music she’d willingly listen to would have to appear in either the Fallout games or the Red Dead Redemption games. </p>
<p>Brody finally downloaded everything that met such criteria after they spent an entire weekend playing New Vegas together. </p>
<p>One of the best weekends of Violet’s life. </p>
<p>
  <em>“I say I’ll care forever, and I mean forever... If I have to hold up the sky...”</em>
</p>
<p>The deserts much smoother now, as if they’re driving on an actual road. </p>
<p>The setting sun is gone, barely illuminating the purple and pink sky as sparkling stars become present one by one. The truck comes to a slow stop next to a large boulders with dried, yellowing bushes surrounding it. The air is sweet, a floral warmth despite the lack of flowers growing in this area. It’s nostalgic, Violet thinks, something that brings memories flashing through her mind of camping trips and other nightly drives with the girl beside her. </p>
<p>“Alright! Let’s do this!”</p>
<p>The set up is quick. It’s a relief to have the pizza off her lap, as well as to be out of the truck to stretch her legs. Violet gathers the rest of their snacks from the backseat, as well as their drinks. </p>
<p>Brody shakes out the blankets in the bed on the truck, calling out, “Not a cloud in sight! This is the best spot, I tell ya! Not that there’s anythin’ wrong with your backyard-”</p>
<p>“My backyard <em>does </em>have a trampoline.”</p>
<p>“-or any- yeah, yeah, the trampoline’s fun and all, but it’s hard to stay still and look at the sky with all the trees in the way.”</p>
<p>Violet scoffs.</p>
<p>“It’s not that hard to stay still,” she argues lightly. “You just have a habit of trying to bounce me off.”</p>
<p>“I don’t <em>try </em>to bounce you off!” Brody laughs. “It’s just...”</p>
<p>“Just what?”</p>
<p>“I dunno. It’s cute that I can just... bounce you, I guess. Like you weigh nothin.’”</p>
<p>Violet doesn’t get how that’s considered cute, but she still feels that tingle of embarrassment in her gut, so she blows it off with a snort. </p>
<p>“You just like showing off.”</p>
<p>“Well, there’s that, too.” </p>
<p>With two heavy comforters, three pillows, and Violet’s pocket stereo set in place, they climb into the bed to get comfortable. While Violet fiddles with the stereo to play the same station as they listened to on their way here, Brody doesn’t hesitate to dig into the Hawaiian pizza that has forever burned Violet’s poor, poor legs. </p>
<p>“Here,” Violet dumps all the unwanted pineapple from her piece onto Brody’s.</p>
<p>“Oh, c’mon,” Brody laughs. “Just eat it.”</p>
<p>“Pineapple on pizza is a sin and I am no sinner.”</p>
<p>That only makes Brody laugh harder. </p>
<p>It’s about an hour once night fully falls along the desert, only lit by the full moon glowing among the stars. A light breeze wafts through that sweet air, whistling in the trees in a calming ambiance. </p>
<p>Both with their fair share of pizza and other candy bars they brought along, Brody and Violet lay close against the pillows, their legs covered by the blanket.   A particularly cooler wind creeps beneath Violet’s loose t-shirt just as Brody's hand moves around her middle, warm and soft. In seconds, their bodies mold comfortably together, so close Brody’s heartbeat vibrates against Violet’s ear. It’s a rhythm calm enough to lull her to sleep if she were determined to intake all the beauty the sky holds. </p>
<p>Absently, Violet takes Brody’s hand in her, bringing her palm up to her lips, pressing a light kiss against the soft skin. Brody returns such affection with a kiss along the top of her head, right where she had bumped it on the ride here. </p>
<p>Violet lets out a content sigh as the voice of Nat King Cole rings through the desert.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Kiss me as though it were now or never...Teach me all that a heart should know... Love me as though there were no tomorrow...”</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. [fruit cocktails]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>anon requested: Ok CJ us Livid anons will strike a truce if you write us a Livid oneshot &gt;:D</p>
<p>Fine, but you get a small oneshot because CJ doesn’t know how to write anything with Lilly in which she doesn’t die a horrifying death. </p>
<p>17 + 3 = “David and Lilly get caught kissing.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The can of frozen lemonade concentrate falls onto its side, knocked over by David’s arm when he grabbed the back counter to steady himself. Rolling dangerously close to the edge, It comes to a slow stop, waiting for him to catch it.</p>
<p>Except that’s difficult to do when his full focus is now on returning the kiss Lilly surprised him with while he was cutting up strawberries. He was ready to scold her for sneaking the biggest strawberry of the bunch, but he didn’t get anything but a grunt out. </p>
<p>All thoughts of which fruits to add first and how much vodka he should add disappear with every sweet press of her lips. </p>
<p>Pinned against the counter, David weighs his options here. While he was never one to surrender or accept any form of defeat without objection, Lilly’s hands in his hair paired with a soft bite of his lower lip confirm that he’s more than okay with surrender. </p>
<p>But that doesn’t mean he can’t play her game, either. </p>
<p>Besides, the kids aren’t home. That’s reason enough for him. </p>
<p>With one hand grabbing her waist and the other slipping behind her head, David takes control of the kiss, much to Lilly’s amusement. She smirks against his lips before breaking apart. He dips down to try and capture that smug grin of hers,  but she proves to be quicker than him. </p>
<p>This time she plants a kiss along his jaw, moving to his throat and-</p>
<p>“Woah, hey!” </p>
<p>The can of frozen lemonade teeters off the edge, crashing to the ground and splitting. </p>
<p>Javier stands in the kitchen entrance, wide eyes darting back and forth between the mess on the floor and David’s flustered face. </p>
<p>After a beat of silence, Javier points to the frozen lemonade.</p>
<p>“You dropped something.”</p>
<p>“Damn it, Javi,” David curses, guiding Lilly and himself away from the melting mess by their feet while the raging embarrassment burns his skin. He can't even speak properly, his tongue heavy with the distress of the sudden situation. </p>
<p>“Sorry, I didn’t know that-” Javier awkwardly motions to Lilly before waving, “-Lilly, great to see you! I’m just- don’t mind me, I just came down to, uh-” </p>
<p>“<em>Javi</em>-”</p>
<p>Javier hurries over the fridge, avoiding anymore eye contact, voice high and quick as he exclaims, “I’m gonna grab my pudding cups and pretend I didn’t see anything! I was never here, so-” he pauses, leaning over to eye the various fruits, the blender, and the bottle of expensive vodka, “....are you making cocktails?”</p>
<p>“<em>Javi,</em>” Lilly warns, grabbing an orange off the counter and raising it as if she's about to throw it at his face. </p>
<p>Taking the more than obvious and threatening hint, Javier raises his arms up in surrender, a chocolate pudding cup in each hand.</p>
<p>“Y’know what? Nevermind! I’ll take my pudding and get outta here! You two have fun! Goodnight! Be safe!” </p>
<p>With that, he practically runs out of the kitchen, letting out a grunt and a string of swears when his hip knocks against the doorway.</p>
<p>Lilly shakes her head, rubbing at her temple with a scowl deepening her lips. </p>
<p>“I thought you kicked him out.”</p>
<p>David sighs, exasperated.</p>
<p>“I did.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. [peach pie sucks]</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>quinlinkin reuested: "hey! so, i've been a huge fan of your writing for a while now. you always offer me so much inspiration within your stories, i absolutely love your ability bring life to all the characters and settings you write about. and idk if you're still accepting requests for your otp mix n' match challenge, nor if you'd even consider doing this request haha, but- could i perhaps request 15 &amp; 11? i am super interested in potentially seeing what your take on my personal otp would be! much love either way"</p>
<p>15 + 11 = “Louis and Mitch pretend to date to make others jealous but you know what happens.”</p>
<p>Hi, this has been in my drafts for like.... forever. I completely forgot about it until I stumbled across it today. But hey, better now than never, I suppose. It's been a long time since I've written any of these types of oneshots so here ya go.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This is a joke. </p>
<p>This is a joke and he’s the butt of it. </p>
<p>How did the fuck did he end up here?</p>
<p>Mitch knows this has to be a joke because Louis did not go through this much effort for it to <em>not</em> be a joke.</p>
<p>The remaining fries on the plate have gone cold, mushy beneath the squirt of bright cheddar cheese. Walter’s Diner has the best fries in this hellhole of a town, and usually, they’re the first thing he chows down before finishing his burger or even touching his shake. </p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck. Fucking hell. </em>
</p>
<p>It’s hard to concentrate on and enjoy his food with Louis’ arm behind his neck, hand casually resting over Mitch’s shoulder as he and Violet argue whether they should order a basket of donut holes or four slices of peach pie for dessert. </p>
<p>“They’re stuffed,” Violet says, pointing at the menu, reading, “‘Our bite-sized delights are baked to perfection, stuffed with our delicious cream cheese filling, and tossed in a heavenly mixture of cinnamon and sugar.’ And you’re telling me that doesn’t sound good?”</p>
<p> “And you’re telling me that a slice of Walter’s famous peach pie doesn’t make your mouth water?” Louis sighs. “I’m salivating just thinking about it.”</p>
<p>Violet wrinkles her nose. </p>
<p>“Peach pie sucks.”</p>
<p>“You suck.” </p>
<p>“<em>You </em>suck.”</p>
<p>“C’mon guys,” Aasim butts in, eyes rolling in that exasperated way he gets whenever Louis and Violet do this. “Donuts suck, pie sucks, and you both suck. Let’s order ice cream.”</p>
<p>With a hand pressed against his chest, Louis lets out his fakest, most dramatic gasp. Next comes the obnoxious- and probably offensive- British accent.</p>
<p>“Why, my dear Mitch, Violet, did you hear what this lickspittle just said to us?”</p>
<p>Violet’s last tater tot goes flying as a response, bouncing off Aasim’s nose. </p>
<p>“Are you serious?” Aasim snatches the tater tot back up, throwing it at Louis. </p>
<p>“Hey! Rude!” Louis laughs, his arm slipping out from behind Mitch to try and catch the tot. “What did I do?”</p>
<p>Without a thought, Mitch grabs the offending tot and tosses it back at Aasim, who catches it and lets it drop onto his plate. </p>
<p>“Knock it off, guys,” he says. “It shouldn’t take this long to decide on a dessert. I vote pie.” </p>
<p>That makes Louis smile.</p>
<p>“Ah, a man after my own heart,” he sighs, shifting closer against Mitch’s side- <em>Jesus Christ almighty- </em>and pressing quick kiss against his cheek. </p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck everything. Fuck, fuck-</em>
</p>
<p>This causes Mitch to suck in a breath, only to cover it up by coughing into his sleeve. God, his face is going to melt off, especially if Louis keeps looking at him like that. </p>
<p>“That’s not a surprise,” Violet rolls her eyes, ignoring the kiss and Mitch’s coughing fit. “He sucks, too.” </p>
<p>“Can’t we just agree that we all suck?” Louis says. </p>
<p>“Can’t you ever shut your pie hole?” </p>
<p>“Can’t we all just order different desserts?” Aasim pleads, finger jabbing at the menu on the table to emphasize his point. </p>
<p>Louis and Violet look at one another, puzzled as if that idea never occurred to them. At this point, Mitch didn’t even care about dessert, didn’t really even want any. </p>
<p>Louis shifts and there’s the warm, distracting press of his knee against his and Mitch has never been so tense in his entire life. </p>
<p>He's too fucking close. Too close. <em>Too close</em>. And he <em>kissed</em> him. On the cheek, sure, but fucking hell-</p>
<p>Never has he felt such tension in his body, even when something obnoxiously embarrassing passes his father’s mouth, or when Willy’s fingers slip from the branches of whatever tree he’s climbing and he almost plummets to the ground. </p>
<p>He doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that Aasim won’t stop gawking at them every time they do <em>anything</em>, or that Louis is fucking <em>comfortable </em>doing the things that make Aasim gawk in the first place. </p>
<p>This whole thing is nothing but a cruel joke that Mitch was stupid enough to take the bait for.</p>
<p>And for what? A promise of Louis buying him lunch every day for a month? Was a free meal every day worth this level of anxiety and... gross feelings? </p>
<p>“Fine,” says Violet. “I’ll eat a whole basket myself, but don’t any of you dare eyeball them. You had your chance.”</p>
<p>“I won’t eyeball your donuts if you don’t eyeball my pie.” </p>
<p>“I won’t because pie sucks.”</p>
<p>“<em>You</em> suck!” </p>
<p>“Oh my god,” Aasim abruptly twists around, desperately tapping on the shoulder of a now startled waitress. “Two slices of peach pie, a basket of donuts holes, and an ice cream cone to go. <em>Please. </em>I want to go home.<em>” </em></p>
<p>The waitress stares at him, baffled, before nodding and getting away from their table as quickly as possible. </p>
<p>Louis chuckles, arm slipping back behind Mitch as he says, “I think she likes you.”</p>
<p>“Shut up!” Aasim frowns. “I swear to god...”</p>
<p>Louis continues to laugh, but he steals a glance at Mitch. Something softens and it’s... Mitch doesn’t know what the fuck it is. Ever since they started this, sometimes Louis will look at him like that.</p>
<p>From what he can tell, Louis doesn’t even look at the girl like that, and she’s the entire reason they’re doing this. </p>
<p>That girl- what the fuck’s her name? He couldn’t have possibly tuned Louis out <em>every time</em> he mentions her- the redhead from his art class or whatever. She’s the one who started this bullshit.</p>
<p>About a month ago, Louis wrote him a note detailing, <em>“I need your help. Meet me by the school entrance during lunch? It’s important,”</em> while they’re in the middle of a pop quiz. As if Mitch didn’t have enough to worry about with all the damn fractions scattering the quiz, but then he was left worry about what the hell Louis needed his help with. </p>
<p>Also, he did this without Mr. Garcia noticing. How the fuck that’s possible is beyond him. If they were caught, both of their quizzes would’ve been ripped to shreds. Mitch didn’t need that shit right now.</p>
<p>Then, the entrance was barely in sight by the time Louis snuck up on him, grabbed his arm, and proceeded to drag him outside and across the parking lot so they could hop into the safety of Mitch’s hand-me-down truck despite Mitch’s protests. He hadn’t cleaned his truck of its fast-food wrappers or loose sheets of forgotten homework in weeks, and that left him worried that the air freshener didn’t work. </p>
<p>Finally, Louis managed to explain this so-called plan of his to Mitch with a straight face, not cracking once. He actually sounds serious enough that Mitch might’ve believed him if this bullshit wasn’t so... so<em> bullshit</em>.</p>
<p>“I really like her,” Louis had said, “and Violet said this kind of thing could get her attention.” </p>
<p>Of course, Mitch didn’t agree so easily because the plan was- and still is- stupid.</p>
<p>“You think pretending to date <em>me</em> is gonna get her attention?” he scoffed. “I’m not fucking doing this. Ask Vi.”</p>
<p>“I can’t ask Vi. She doesn’t date dudes and I’m pretty sure Brody would, like, break me in half or something.”</p>
<p>“Fine, Aasim then.” </p>
<p>“C’mon, you know Aasim would never.” </p>
<p>“Well,” Mitch threw his hands up. “<em>I </em>would never! Find someone else because I’m not gonna be your fake boyfriend so that you can make what’s-her-nut jealous!”</p>
<p>Jokes on him- Mitch’s been Louis’ fake boyfriend for weeks now because he hasn’t wooed what’s-her-nut yet. Which wasn’t that the whole point? They just <em>pretend</em> while <em>she’s</em> around? Not when they’re alone or when hanging out with Violet and Aasim? </p>
<p>Louis said it was to make it as real as possible, just in case what’s-her-nut found out. That doesn’t explain why Louis is the way he is when it’s just the two of them. Doesn’t explain the kiss on the cheek. </p>
<p>Mitch eats a cold fry, cringing at the taste. He can feel Violet looking at him while Louis goes on about something that happened in choir. When Mitch meets her eye, she smirks, raising a knowing brow. Mitch gives her a light kick under the table. </p>
<p>When the waitress finally brings them their dessert in separate bags, she doesn’t stick around long and avoids eye contact with Aasim. </p>
<p>“Hey, Vi,” Louis leans over her shoulder as they’re leaving the diner, “Can I have a donut hole?”</p>
<p>“I will stab you, your boyfriend, <em>and </em>your pie.”</p>
<p>“Hey, not my pie!” Louis grabs Mitch’s hand, knocking his shoulder into his. “Or my Mitch!” </p>
<p>
  <em>Fucking hell. </em>
</p>
<p>Mitch doesn’t know how much longer he can handle this. </p>
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